


It's My Fault, It's My Fault

by Madam_Marie



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Angst, Apartment AU, Attempted Sexual Assault, Birthday Party, Brotherhood, Brotherly Bonding, Clubbing, Cussing, Dancing, Developing Friendships, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drinking, Fluff, Heartbreak, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jealousy, M/M, Music, Partying, Smoking, Stabbing, Stalking, Strained Relationships, Stress Baking, Stress Relief, Swearing, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, Why Did I Write This?, dancer!babe, dancer!luz, gay sex probably, gay shit, luztoye, luztoye is main the rest are background tbh, mom Carwood Lipton, parties every weekend basically, roy cobb being a bitch, webgott - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22475878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Marie/pseuds/Madam_Marie
Summary: After a failed engagement, Joe Toye decides to move to Toccoa, Georgia to live with his lifelong best friend, Bill Guarnere. Little does he know, the men of Currahee Apartments are not just ordinary guys. They're fun, young, wild, free and have an unbreakable bond. Still healing, Toye struggles with his feelings for the eccentric and heartstopping George Luz. Chaos, heartbreak, and drama ensue, leaving him in the arms of Roy Cobb. Follow Joe and the Currahee boys on a journey of love, rejection, dumb decisions and smoking doobies with Muck, Malarkey and Penkala!*READ TAGS- I'll also put warnings at the beginning of the chapters
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe, Buck Compton/George Luz, Carwood Lipton/Ronald Speirs, George Luz/Joseph Toye, Joseph Liebgott/David Kenyon Webster, Roy Cobb/Joseph Toye
Kudos: 19





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys im back with some gay shit! as usual i suck at tags :') Sorry if this chapter is lowkey boring, it's just a lil introduction kinda. Next chapter our boi Joe finna meet all the guys. this chapter just has cussing, but like every chapter is gonna so just expect it
> 
> thanks so much for reading, remember to comment and leave kudos if you enjoy! i also always love suggestions and constructive criticism cuz i never know wtf im doing. its 2020 and im really out here writing fic for a show from 2001 wtf is my life
> 
> ill try to update weekly <3
> 
> ~Madam Marie <33

“Bill, lift the fuckin’ end up more. The leg’s been whackin’ the stairs the whole way up.” 

“Shut up Joe, I know what I’m doin’!” 

In all honesty, neither man really knew what they were doing. They weren’t professional movers or some shit, although their athletic build may suggest otherwise. The fact that they were currently standing on a flight of stairs, clutching a solid oak dresser was pretty self-explanatory, however, how they had already made it up two flights was a mystery on its own. 

Another hollow ‘thump’ resonated through the brick hall, a series of dissatisfied grunts following in its wake. 

“Watch the foot, dickhead!” Guarnere spat, his thick Philidalphea accent coating each word. 

“ _ You’re  _ the dickhead. Have you ever moved a piece of furniture in your goddamn life?” Toye retaliated in a deep raspy voice, obvious frustration building within his throat. 

“I ain’t the one who told you to buy a two thousand pound fuckin’ dresser.” 

“It was an  _ investment.  _ I’m gonna have this thing till’ I croak!” 

“Well it won’t be much longer cause’ I’m gonna push you  _ and _ your ‘investment’ down the goddamn stairs!” 

“Piss off, Gonorrhea.” 

Step by grueling step, the two men lifted the dresser, muscles straining and a constant string of cusses bouncing off the walls. By the time they reached the third floor, they were drenched in sweat, aching and dying for a cold sip of beer. 

The dresser was haphazardly dropped onto the green carpet laid upon the floor on the apartment building, not yet moved into Bill, Babe and soon to be Joe’s apartment. 

“I need a fuckin’ Bud Light, man,” Toye confessed while using a white towel to wipe the glistening beads of sweat off his forehead. 

“Are you shittin’ me, Joe? You drink that shit?” His friend replied, grimacing at the thought. 

“Beer is beer. Only real drinkers know.” 

“Well you’re in luck, Heffron always keeps Corona stocked in the fridge.” 

“Thank fuck,” the taller man sighed, forever in debt to his countless blessings. 

With a quick stretch and a deep breath, Toye strolled into the apartment and tugged open the refrigerator, the artificial breeze dancing against his heated skin. Radiant white beams entangled within his chocolate brown irises as his gaze fell upon a drawer stashed with the “goods.” 

“Goddamn, y’all alcoholics or somethin’?” The newcomer questioned, his raspy voice heightening with curiosity. A moment later, strong, muscular hands seized two chilled bottles, filled with delectable liquid gold. 

“There's like twenty guys livin’ in this bitch, Joe. Everyone goes in everyone's fridge, eats their food and steals their beer. It’s a Currahee Apartments tradition,” Gurnere explained while casually yanking open one of the clean white drawers and obtaining a gleaming silver bottle opener. 

“Speakin’ of neighbors, you should give me a layout of the place. Like who bunks with who n shit’ like that.” 

A metallic clink resonated through the room, only to be followed by a series of taps resulting from the bottle cap bouncing upon the granite counter. 

“What, you want a map or some shit?” Bill sarcastically responded after a hearty gulp of Corona, removing the glass opening from his stern lips. 

“Just do a quick rundown, asshole.” 

The other man nodded in agreement, gently setting his drink atop the coffee table and lazily plopping down on the brick red couch next to his best friend. 

“Alright, as you this place has got four floors, two apartments on each. The first floor, Speirs lives alone, across the hall from him is Martin, Randleman and Popeye. On the second floor above Speirs are Shifty, Talbert, and Grant. Below us are Hoobler, Roe and Smokey”

“Oh, is Roe the doctor Babe’s been tryna’ fuck for the past three months?” Toye interrupted as soon as he recognized the name. 

“You bet he is. No dice yet, but Babe says he’s ‘Making progress.’” 

“Yikes.” 

“Anyways, across from us is Luz, Lipton, and Perconte. Above them are Liebgott, Webster and Skinny and above us is Malarkey, Skip and Penkala. Pretty much everyone on the third and fourth floors is loud as fuck, so you probably want to invest in earplugs or somethin’.” 

Joe simply hummed in response, internally intimidated by the never-ending list of unfamiliar names, and even worse: unfamiliar faces. Odds are his fist would be introduced to at least one new friend within the first month. 

“Oh, who the hell were the three guys we met the other day? Y’know, the red head, the alcoholic and the overly-dedicated fiance?” 

“Winters owns the building. Nixon is his husband, who happens to own a bar. Welsh is friends with them and a lot of the guys here. The guy’s obsessed with his girl Kitty. They’re here all the time, too.” 

Toye was simply astounded by the tight bond that was present in Currahee Apartments, a new and unfamiliar concept to him. It almost seemed like a nuisance, having a bunch of dudes entering and leaving the room, bothering you and waking you up at ungodly hours of the night. 

He simply raised his eyebrows in curiosity, taking a swig of Corona. 

Gonorrhea was always swift to read his buddy's facial expressions, taking note of his obvious annoyance with this setup.

“It ain’t that bad, Joe. If you go in your room and close the door they know the fuck off. They’re a great group of dudes, pretty soon you’ll just be ‘one of the guys.’” 

“Alright, whatever you say, Bill.” 

Oh my god, this was going to be a _ living hell. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. One of Everything: Handcrafted by Alex Penkala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heyooo sorry its been a hot minute. ya gal has been hella busy this week. bruh moment. anyway, the fun begins in this chapter!   
> as for warnings we just got some homies smokin weed so if yall get triggered by that dont read this shit
> 
> i hope u enjoy bbs

Toye’s grease-stained hand hurriedly clutched the gleaming door handle to his sleek black Cadillac, his body desperate to escape the merciless grasp of a humid summer night. The leather jacket snugly hugging his muscular body sure as hell didn’t help, but maintained his “bad boy” persona. 

A deep, raspy sigh escaped his throat as he threw himself into the driver’s seat, a confident wave of accomplishment washing over him. His first week at the new mechanic’s shop was a complete and utter  _ success. _ Pat Christenson was a hell of a guy, not to mention the most tolerable boss Joe had ever had. Another plus was the all around stoic manner of his coworkers, which prevented him from being dragged into unrelatable and frivolous conversations. 

To top it all off, he’d been able to pick up eight hours of overtime, which would explain why it was nine o’ clock at night and he was just now heading home. Stainless windows were rolled down, letting a refreshing breeze sweep through the vehicle, running like fingers through the man’s thick and wavy hair.

The ride back to Currahee Apartments was swift, thick rubber tires streaking down heated pavement, the shimmer of street light illuminating the waxed paint of the automobile, the multicolored gleams of luminance darting down the road. A steady rhythm of vibrations boomed from trembling speakers, rattling Joe’s bones and harmonizing with his powerful heartbeat.

A quick flip of a switch and his right blinker began to flash, signifying his long awaited return to his new home. However, this turn would drag out a suppressed memory from deep within his recollection: the goddamn party the dudes across the hall were hosting. The beautiful synchronization of his car stereo and beating heart became unmatched and chaotic due to the new faster and obnoxious pattern that had been thrown into the mix. 

The quiet little street was plagued with the disorderly noise spilling out of none other than Currahee Apartments. It would be impossible for the mechanic to reach his rightful state of slumber with apartment 3B sounding like a repeat of World War II. Toye begrudgingly pulled his Cadillac into a spot between Guarnere and Babe’s cars, his head already aching from the second-hand racket.

God, not only would he be forced to  _ socialize _ , he’d now have to deal with Bill and Heffron’s reprimands for being “ _ motherfuckin’ late _ ” as one of his buddy’s 27 texts and 3 missed calls so nicely put it. The redhead was generally less aggressive, his texts simply reading “ _ where u at boi, this party is bomb af!?! _ ” and “ _ dont forget to wear something pokemon related bro!”  _

Joe internally cursed, his finger hurriedly locking his phone in a weak effort to forget about the dreadful social gathering. Of course these idiots were having a “4 years since the release of Pokemon Go” party. He recalled Gonorrhea mentioning that the guys had been doing this on July 6th for the past three years too. Ain’t that a bitch? 

“ _ What’s next, a fuckin’ ‘I ate pizza today’ party?”  _ Toye disgustedly thought to himself as he established a dominant gait towards his unavoidable doom. Each step only further plunged him into the abyss of ridiculous music and rowdy young men, his two favorite things! When he roughly shoved his silver key into the door knob, he swore his hand began to shiver from the inescapable vigor of the stereo. 

A steady push to the entrance and it swung open, completely annihilating any barrier left between his eardrums and the bullshit upstairs, the chords and strains repeatedly slamming into his head and knocking his brain around like a ping pong ball. 

The man rushed up the carpeted stairs, only furthering the descent into his own personal little hell. When he finally reached apartment 3A, he all but threw himself into the room, not even bothering to look across the hall at the party-plagued home of his neighbors. 

“Fuckin’ finally,” Bill’s easily identifiable voice sighed, Joe’s intimidating gaze landing upon the man, who lay slung across the sofa.

“What in God’s name are you wearing?” The mechanic questioned, a sudden chuckle escaping his dry throat. 

“Shut up. If I don’t wear it Luz is gonna lose his shit. He called it ‘ _ peek a boo’ _ ears or somethin’ like that,' ' his roommate replied in annoyance before hopping off the couch and hurriedly rushing towards the granite kitchen counter. 

“You’re seriously gonna wear those?” Toye managed to get out between a fit of giggles. The little yellow and black ears sat atop Guarnere’s head, the band they were attached to sat in his ruffled and fluffy hair. 

“They’re called  _ Pikachu  _ ears, by the way. Not  _ peek a boo.”  _

“Oh, well, that’s fuckin’ great, cause he gave me a pair for you too.” 

In a quick movement, Guarnere’s muscular hand swiped up the artificial ears, tossing them as if they were a disk, Toye’s well-established reflexes prompting his hand up in a speedy move to catch the accessory. 

“I ain’t wearin’ that shit,” he sternly declared, but the other man who was too busy grabbing a gram and his bubbler off the counter to notice. 

After a brief moment of silence, and the mechanic’s disgusted observation of the prop in his hands, the other finally replied.

“Trust me, Joe, I said that too. Just wait till George gives ya the goddamned puppy eyes, guy could get ya to kill someone with that look.’”

“I doubt I’d be affected,” the man scoffed in response before haphazardly flinging the Pikachu ears behind his shoulder, struggling to give a fuck about their landing destination.

“Aight, let’s go. Kept Babe waiting long enough.” 

“Are you shittin’ me, Bill? I just got in and I’m covered in this bullshit,” Toye protested in his utter annoyance before motioning towards the thick streaks of dull grey coating the perfect olive skin of his strapping arms. 

“No one gives a shit, just wash up in the bathroom there.” 

A moment later Guarnere had seized his upper arm in a death grip and roughly dragged him towards the apartment door. The newbie simply sighed in defeat, not mentally prepared for his buddies unyielding wrath if he objected nor the obnoxious socialites festering just ten feet away. 

All a guy could do is keep his mouth shut and observe as his Doc Martens dragged lazily across the green carpet of the hall and into an ever-expanding void of foolish young men, shouting, loud music, flashing lights and way too much fuckin’ testosterone. 

Joe’s body flinched in a mixture of disgust and exposure when Gonorrhea slammed open the quaking door to 3B, unleashing an inescapable heard of beasts within. Jesus Christ was the compact space  _ packed _ . A variety of lads flooded the hard wood floors, grouped together like penguins. The first thing crossing the newcomers mind was simply: “If this place sets on fire, everyone’s gonna fuckin’ die.” 

The dim lights casted a menacing shadow upon Toye’s already aggressive eyes and shrouded the faces of carefree strangers. Orbs of multicolored illumination mindlessly drifted around the vibrant apartment, a heavy contradiction to the blaring song on the stereo. 

Beneath the thick waves of noise and clouds of marijuana, the man could make out some calls to Bill, who nodded in acknowledgement as he continued to lead them towards the bathroom. 

However, Joe found himself most intrigued by the layout of 3B compared to 3A and the drastic differences between them. He’d always assumed they would simply be a mirror image of one another, only to be proved wrong. Upon entry, the kitchen was to the left, across from that a bedroom which had been labeled “ _ Perconte.”  _ In the back right corner lay the living room, and a hallway with the master bedroom, a closet and the bathroom sat in the back right. 

Bill had always been gifted when it came to shoving through crowds, which would explain why they were now at the end of the hall and violently shaking the bathroom door handle. 

“The fuck you doin’? Someone’s just tryna’ piss?” Toye’s raspy voice strained over the music.

“Here, fuckin’ hold this,” the other man replied, shoving the weed and blue bubbler into his hands. 

Mere seconds later, Guarnere’s invincible metal leg was ramming against the wooden door, a loud  _ thump _ bouncing off the walls. Weakened by his prosthetics undeniable strength, it only took one brutal slam from his broad right shoulder to ram the thing open. 

Goddamn it was like walking to a sauna! The suffocating stench of marijuana crawled out of the bathroom with an endless expanse of smoke, spreading throughout the area in a celebration of its liberty. 

“What the balls!?” A surprised male exclaimed before the two men entered. 

“Look what the cat dragged in!” The same voice resounded, only far more joyful this time around. Against the opposite wall was the porcelain white bathtub, with three pairs of legs dangling over the side. 

Furthest from the stainless steel spout, a youthful man sprung up, his light brown hair falling sloppily in his face while his playful gaze landed on Bill. A Pikachu onesie covered his lanky body, obvious from the black and yellow lightning bolt shaped tail hanging over the edge with his feet. 

“Look what the cat dragged in dragged in!” A muscular redhead in a Charmander onesie exclaimed while popping up next to the Pikachu guy. As if on cue, their synchronized stares fell upon Joe, who simply took there looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“Look what the cat dragged in dragged in dragged in!” A third man, with striking azure eyes and a Squirtle onesie blurted out as he too, sat up in a frenzy. Once again, like clockwork, six eyes became locked into the bong and cannabis within his hands. 

“Well, if it isn’t Muck, Malarkey and Penkala hotboxing the bathroom,” Gonorrhea gasped in artificial surprise. 

“Nice of you to bring us a new homie  _ and  _ some weed. What a G,” the first man, Muck, jokingly declared before wrapping his lithe arm around the redhead, Malarkey. 

“It ain’t for you, stoner boy. It’s for Luz. He’s gonna make edible brownies for us.” 

“Good old Saint Luz,” Penkala remaniced as he took a deep, affectionate sigh. 

“Boys, this is Joe Toye, the king himself,” Bill announced while motioning to the other man, who nodded in acknowledgement. 

“Want a hit, Joe?” Malark asked, holding out a smoking blunt, the little embers dancing in the air around the lit end. “Skip here rolled it, best goddamn blunt you’ll ever smoke.” 

A prideful smirk grew steadily on the brunette’s face, as he snatched the funny cigarette out of his buddy’s hand. 

“I’m good. I don’t do that shit.” 

“Hey- the fuck is this?” Guarnere’s confused voice cut in, his thick Philidalphea accent coating each word. The newcomer’s coffee brown orbs followed the trail of Bill’s look, landing on the sink, which had been covered in multiple layers of red saran wrap and filled with milk and pretty much every cereal known to mankind. 

“I’m gonna skip the what and go straight to  _ why _ ?” Joe cut in, looking at the three men in absolute bewilderment. 

“It’s my famous soup! I call it “ _ One of Everything,”  _ handcrafted by Alex Penkala! Muck and Malark even made a jingle for it! Wanna hear?” 

“ ** _No.”_** Bill and Joe agreed in unison. 

“Anyways Toye, we’ll introduce you to some of the guys here,” Malarkey managed while struggling to lift himself out of the tub. 

“You’re crushing my DS, dickhead!” Skip hollered, only to be followed by Penkalas graphic exclamation of “Your hands digging into my balls!” 

”Guys you should play Pokemon Platinum with us if you have a DS,” Malarkey randomly suggested while holding his up in the air. 

“ _ They’re playing Pokemon on their DS’s? How old are these dudes? 11?”  _ Toye thought to himself while Alex and Skip joined Don in a standing position. 

“I ain’t playin no damn Pokemans with you idiots,” Guarnere responded only to be quickly shot down by the three stoner’s booming correction of

“ **_IT’S POKEMON NOT POKEMAN.”_ **

If this little interaction taught Joe anything it was simply that tonight was going to be a very long, grueling night. 

  
  



End file.
